Everything Has Changed
by Mockingjay2001
Summary: This is how Jaz became one of the most dangerous women in the Earth Shadowrealm. Prequel to 'Jazmine and Cinnamon'. A collection of one-shots.
1. Part 1

**I don't own SotINF, just my OCs. This chapter takes place five years before the Alchemyst.**

Chapter 1

It started out as a normal morning, the California sun shining through my window and lighting up my room. I opened my eyes and felt something warm wrapped around me, the heat almost searing my skin, the scent of cinnamon tickling my nose...

I opened my eyes to find that my bed was on fire.

I yelled a curse in a language that I couldn't recall the name of and scrambled out of my bed. I summoned the coldest water I could think of and forced it onto the flames. Steam rose up from the sheet when the water met with the fire. I slumped against a wall and waved my hand. The burned sheets and scorched pillows disappeared and were replaced by new ones. The smell of cinnamon still lingered.

No one tried me to burn me alive because I'm a witch, no one touched my bed all night but me. I set my bed on fire for the 5th time this month, I believe. My powers weren't the best, sometimes I burned people alive when I got angry, or changed the air around them to a toxic gas. Those were my uncontrollable Magics, Air and Fire. I had inherited Air from my mom, Fire from my dad. I had a natural talent for them, but I was never formally trained in the two magics. My mom didn't have time to train me and my dad didn't give a shit, so I was sent to Astrid and the Stars at the age of 2.

Guess you're wondering what the Stars are. The Five Stars, Stars for short, are an organization of talented women. That's it. Despite the rumors, we're not a cult or a branch of the government. Some of us were born with our talents, like me, some were taught. We take jobs, not just the assassinations and cons we're famous for, but things like finding someone or making a cure for a specific poison. We're separated by our talents-Bright Stars are extremely smart, scientists are the most common Bright Stars. Shooting Stars are assassins, some of the more known Stars. Blazing Stars are the Stars who don't have any specific powers, but just use plain skill to get the job done. The Twinkles are the younger Stars, ages 2 through 10, mostly orphans or kids with special powers. The most powerful group is Super Stars (**AN-really stupid name, I know but it's the only thing I could think of**). They are the only group to have any powers-aura manipulation, flight, telepathy, Elemental Magics, sorcery, etc. You can have 'superpowers' and be a Blazing or Shooting Star , but if you have something major like Technokinesis (the ability to control technology) or necromancy you're stuck in Super. I am one of those people who was stuck being a Super Star. I mean, seriously, how is saying 'I'm a Super Star', going to scare anyone? Well, Twinkles isn't that frightening either...

I checked my reflection in my mirror. My pale skin was flawless. My skin doesn't burn, so I can't get tan either. But part of my hair was burned, about five inches. I grabbed my favorite dagger off my desk, slashing off the scorched portion sloppily, making it even more choppy and uneven. Astrid tells me not to do that, but I don't listen or care. My hair was naturally a dark brown-black color, but I had dyed it bleach blonde. Easier to stay unnoticed. I snapped my fingers. Black smoke swirled around my ruined pajamas and turned them to a black Fall Out Boy t-shirt and jean shorts. I grabbed my headphone and iPod off my desk as I left my room. I yawned and slung my headphones around my neck as I went down the stairs. I damn near tripped on the way down. Since I'm creating the fire in my sleep, the energy from sleep never stays. I managed to make it to the kitchen.

"Hey Jaz," Charlotte said as she closed the fridge after retrieving a smoothie. Her midnight brown hair was in its usual curls, but pulled into a ponytail.

"Hey Char." Charlotte Gold was the same age as me, thirteen. We're good friends, almost like sisters. When the younger Stars are nine or ten, they get permanently assigned to a base. Charlotte came from the base in Moscow, Russia. I came from London, England.

I grabbed an apple off the fruit basket on the table, where Tori was peeling the skin off an orange with her combat boots propped up on the table. "Strid said not to do that," I told the blue haired woman, pointing to her feet. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Don't care." Her nose and multiple ear piercings always freaked me out, but the tattoos were pretty cool. Tori said she would give me one for free for my next birthday, since she's a tattoo artist.

"Jazmine!". I looked over to see Olivia tugging at my arm. She was only twelve, making her the youngest Star at the base. "Can we do gymnastics today?".

"Erm, ask Charlotte." I wasn't the best gymnast-the closest I get to that is stealth moves. Charlotte, however, is on an cheerleading squad, which now apparently requires tumbling. I walked out of the kitchen when Astrid caught my arm and led me to the entry.

"Jaz, you need to pack your things," she told me. Astrid was the only warlock on the American West Coast working for the Stars, but was originally High Warlock of London. She had gold hair and pretty hazel eyes and looked anywhere from 20 to 50.

"Why?" I asked confusedly.

"Charlotte and Olivia are going to visit their family and Tori and I are going on a mission to Brooklyn for several months," Astrid explained. "You're staying with one of my friends in Paris."

"Why can't I just stay here?" I questioned.

"Because last time you blew up the base."

"That was the burglar's fault!". A few months ago, a burglar managed to sneak past our security measures. I tried to deal with it myself, but lost control of my Fire Magic and nearly burned the house down.

"I don't care, I'm not letting you stay at base with no supervision."

"Why can't you trust me?". Cracks formed across a window from the accidental change in air pressure. My magic flares up with my temper.

"That-" Astrid pointed to the cracked window "-is why I can't trust you. You're going to Paris and that is final. We're leaving in an hour." There are many unspoken rules of the Stars. Rule one is don't argue with Astrid, unless you really want to be on cleaning duty for the next three weeks. I sighed and stomped back up to my room. I grabbed a suitcase and began packing. When I finished, I had one suitcase for my clothes, shoes and toiletries, a laptop bag for my electronics, and my guitar case. I slipped a pair of knee high black Converse and my favorite leather jacket. I grabbed my twin daggers and slipped them into my shoes, just in case. It had already been about 45 minutes, so I headed back downstairs to find Astrid waiting.

"Good, you're early." She waved her hand and light purple smoke engulfed both of us. When I opened my eyes, I found that we were standing outside a large mansion. It looked old, but it was in good shape. Astrid rung the doorbell and waited. "Be good, I'd rather you not burn down the house, Niccolo's a good friend of mine." I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you exes or do you fancy him?". Astrid's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by the door opening. The man who answered the door had weird skin, almost like fish scales. He wore a crisp suit and Ray Bans covering his eyes.

"Dagon, where's Niccolo?" Astrid asked as we stepped in. It was the usual rich mansion interior, but it looked like it would never get older or go out of style. Maybe it would be nice living here.

"In his office."

Astrid turned to me. "Wait here." I rolled my eyes and slipped my headphones over my ears. Daughtry played as I stared off into space, trying to ignore the freaky fish man and waited for Astrid's return.

**Hello once again! This is the second rewrite of my fic centered around my OC Jazmine. I keep screwing up, hope I don't mess this one up. I have decided that Jaz won't be in the series, just in a few scenes in the Magician and maybe the Sorceress. After that, onto the topic of Jaz's parents! One person, a guest reviewer, figured out who Jaz's mom and told me in a review of the other 'Jazmine and Cinnamon'. Good job! Anyone want to try to guess who Jaz's dad is?**

**I could write an actual book, as in not Fanfiction, with the Stars stuff, but that would involve getting it published and I really don't have time for that...**

**Review please!**

**-MJ2001**


	2. Part 2

**Don't own anything but my OCs. The last name Verlac is from the Mortal Instruments, so I only own Astrid's old first name. **

Chapter 2

A knock at the door made Niccolo look up from his laptop. "Come in," he called, assuming it was Dagon. Instead of Dagon, Aveline Verlac walked in, dressed in her usual classy blouse and pencil skirt, her high heels clicking on the wooden floor. The immortal took a seat across from Machiavelli, an indifferent expression on her face.

"Hello Niccolo," she said, her soft voice tinted with a French accent.

"Madam Verlac," he replied. Astrid winced at her old name.

"It's O'Hare, Astrid O'Hare, Niccolo, you know that." She glared at him for about two seconds, before returning to her usual mask. Once upon a time, the mask would have been a grin. Even though she had changed almost everything since the last fifty years they had met-her name, her appearance, her personality, or at least part of it-but she could still never stay angry at anyone for very long.

"Yes, I assume you're here with the girl?".

"Correct, her name is Jazmine." A small frown was on her lips when Jazmine was mentioned. "She is rather... unstable."

"What do you mean?".

"She was born with Fire and Air Magics, but does not have full control of them. She tends to lash out when she's angry or upset."

"That's extremely rare...".

"Yes, that's why I can't leave her back in San Francisco. I'm sorry to put this all on you, but I don't have any connections to other immortals...". Niccolo had no idea how Astrid had become immortal, but he knew that she wasn't in service to an Elder. She didn't know most of the other immortals-they all either feared her or hated her or both. All of the Elders despised her for her father, who Niccolo just assumed was another one of the Elder races but didn't know for sure.

"Its fine, where is she?".

"With Dagon, you might as well meet her now. I'll warn you-she has a bad mouth and an even worse temper. Let's hope nothing catches on fire today."

* * *

Machiavelli was expecting an young woman, maybe sixteen or so, with Astrid's honey blonde hair and fair skin. But instead, Jazmine turned out to be a lithe, thin, young girl about twelve. She had choppy, medium length, silvery blonde hair that was obviously dyed. She was pale, her skin almost the color of her hair. The leather jacket, dark t-shirt, jean shorts and black knee high Converse stood out from her light skin and hair. Black headphones covered her ears. A suitcase and a guitar case sat at her feet.

"So, I'm assuming you're Jazmine?" he asked. She looked up from her iPod and took off her headphones. He couldn't see very much of her face because of the large, reflective aviator sunglasses that covered her eyes.

"Niccolo Machiavelli?" she questioned, a hint of a British accent in her words. Machiavelli nodded and she held out a hand. "Jazmine Dare, most people call me Jaz, nice to meet you." When they went to shake hands, both their aura's flared-Machiavelli's dirty grey, Jazmine's black as night. Niccolo jerked his hand away quickly.

"You never said-". But Astrid was gone.

"She does that all the time, then randomly reappears and scares the shit out of people." Niccolo turned back to Jazmine. She really did have a sharp tongue. "I have no idea where she went, sorry." There was a short awkward silence. "So, what did Astrid tell you about me?"

"You have Air and Fire Magics but no training, that's about it."

"Wow, she usually tells people more than that," she said. Jaz still hadn't taken off her sunglasses. "Well, I'm thirteen and I grew up in London. I love music and I sing a lot, just so you know. I like to remix music, mostly techno and pop. What do you do?".

"I am the Director of the Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure," he told her.

"Oh yeah, Tori hacked into your data base a few years ago." Niccolo raised an eyebrow. "You really need to tighten up your firewalls." Jazmine took off her headphones and Machiavelli's eyes widened. Her skin was lighter and her eyes were different, but there was no way Machiavelli would mistake the face for someone else. He had only seen him two times in his whole life, but he would never forget that face.

Niccolo was staring at the a pale, grey eyed, feminine version of his master, Aten.

**So, if none of you got that last sentence, ATEN IS JAZMINE'S DAD. **

**-MJ2001**


End file.
